


Change the End, Not the Beginning

by JValentino



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Hijinks & Shenanigans, Redemption, Road Trips, Things Get Better, but we'll get into that later, maybe also indoctrinated to the cons, the stunticons are just very wild teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28648659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JValentino/pseuds/JValentino
Summary: Separated from the Decepticons, Motormaster must travel across the country in any hopes of re-joining them. Somehow he finds himself with a human of his own.
Relationships: Gestalt bond - Stunticons, Motormaster & Stunticons, Stunticons & Stunticons
Kudos: 3





	Change the End, Not the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This will be my first long fic that I believe I have a good, long term end goal for! Tags will be added as I go most likely and ratings may change, although nothing massive.

Heavy waves splashed up against their feet. Cold, October waves crept into their shoes. The sun set across a soft sky, amber glow backed against ocean blue. Sand glittered in the remaining light. Pebbles settled across in strange paths created by ever moving tides, like a journey into their depths. 

Someone called out to them. “You can’t stay there all night! It’s freezing! And you’ve got a flight to catch tomorrow!” The voice beckoned. A door shuts, the car, steps clicking closer up on the pavement. It was so peaceful you could hear every detail.

With a sigh they turned their back on the ocean. Stepping away, they make the short trek back to their friend, cheeks pink from the wind. 

___

The first thing he knew was them. 

There was his own spark, himself he knew was separate. But whatever had existed of him then did not like separate. There was him but there was also them. Other little lights around him, like himself, spinning around one another with newfound life and fresh excitement. Curiosity of each other and curiosity of themselves. None of them had names at that point, but they didn’t need to. That didn’t matter to them. In that moment, in their own little bubble, they all knew who they were. 

The space around them seemed to almost pulse with life, undulating against them. Otherwise it had been devoid of others. Perhaps there had been some sense of presence flickering upon the edges of their space but they would never have noticed. 

Their frames hadn’t existed yet, leaving them in a void of their own. Alone but with only each other. They were separate but one, living apart with one connection. There was nothing before them. Only the simmering of new life shared between them.

Then the anger came. Ferocious and hot, it scorched through his frame. Fresh wires and networks crying out in confusion at the intrusion. His processor had felt like it was melting, struggling against non-existent assailants. If not for the pain flushing through him he may not have noticed his frame. 

He only knew this anger for one thing. _Autobots _. Whatever an Autobot was he hated, no, _despised _them.____

_____ _

Awareness crawled across his back, slipping little, nitty gritty claws into his processor. Information poured in, sensations of all kinds prickling new sensors into play. The world took shape around him, ground coming up beneath his pedes. Soft winds washed over his plating. Other forms appeared around him, splashes in colours given definition by edges and light. 

_____ _

Battle worn plating painted in grey met them first, hands on his hips and facing them with a smirk across his faceplates. Behind him two others stood sentinel. One styled in blue, red and white, sneering with arms folded. Another of darker blue, face hidden completely by visor and face mask, barely a hint of an EM field. 

_____ _

Each branded by the same purple mark. The mark of his purpose. That gave him reason. From the one that gave him life. He was online. And he was **angry**. And the world would know it. Because it would have to experience it with him as he crushed it beneath his fist. 

Anything less was unacceptable. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

___

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Megatron had ordered another raid upon some human energy outpost. The goal was stealing some experimental technology, presumably for Shockwave or the Constructicons to fiddle with. Motormaster wasn’t concerned with the specifics. All he needed was a direction to punch Autobots. He wasn’t one for science. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Light was limited. The organic star warming the planet had not yet appeared in the sky as the planet rotated itself. Barely any sound permeated the stark silence filling the air. Small creatures scuttled from their hiding spots to escape the Titans walking upon their world. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

The seekers had taken point, delivering a swift missile to one side of the building, opening up an entrance. From there Megatron ordered his troops inside while Soundwave scrambled human communications. The longer it took the humans to contact their other organic friends, the longer it would take the Autobots to find out. This outpost was secluded, something about dangerous nuclear chemicals. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Soft, organic creatures had run between his pedes, screaming and calling out to one another and into strange box shaped devices. Skin flushed into strange shades of pink. Heart rates beating off as if trying to escape the confines of the calcium cage beneath their fleshy frame. The urge to stomp every single one of them, snuff out the annoyances, pulsed in his lines in waves of furious heat. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Somewhere along his spark the pinpricks of his gestalt mates prickled against his chassis. Prickling against his processor as waves of emotions flickered between them. Motormaster often found it annoying knowing he had those idiots inside his helm, although he had never known any different. Fragging idiots too focused on playing around in their sparks. None of the other gestalts got so distracted, at least it didn’t seem so.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Speaking of gestalts. Devastator was tearing debris from the ground, launching twisted chunks of metal and rubble towards the Autobots’ gestalt. The impact send them toppling down straight into the river. Water sloshed over their plating, wet pieces of organic matter sticking over in patches and shining with some organic ooze in the last of the moonlight. Disgusting. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

As soon as the Autobots had turned up, as they always had to, his lines burned with steady, almost natural rage, as if scorching his processor. His fist swung out to clip the nearest Autobot, red paint, across the chin plating. A splatter of energon stained the ground beside where they fell. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Orders flicked across comms, accompanied by the overwhelming bellow of Megatron across the battlefield between his clashes with Prime. Clouds of thick dust surrounded them. The beginnings of thin sunlight illuminating their forms from above. Marked silhouettes in dark shadows made for intimidating outlines. The truest of titans among them. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Stray shots flicked off his plating, only leaving faint scorch marks. Cries of pain and calls of fighting blurred. It all became white noise to him. He didn’t care. Another bot made their way toward him with streaks of gunfire pelting his plating. Swinging, his forearm crashed across their face with a crunch. The sickening gurgle of a broken nasal ridge sputtering energon was sweet to his mind. Another clatter as their limbs splayed across the dirt, the impact sending them straight onto their back. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Splatters of pink stained his arm. His mouth pulled taut across his face, warping into a sinister grin. Energon pumped heavy in his lines, pulsing in his audios in unsteady beats. As the battle around him fell away his servos snapped out. Grasping their collar faring the Autobot was pulled from the ground, sneering at him. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

He tossed them aside. In a few short strides he was gazing out over the skyline where early morning sunlight met the sky. Smaller battles were fought around him. Out the hole they blasted in the human facility he could see Soundwave’s little helpers. Giggling, the mad duo made off with their objective, secure within their tiny, grubby servos. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

His proximity sensors blared an alarm, flashing upon his HUD. Like a call to battle he answered. Pneumatic lines pulsed with pressure as he himself swung out his forearm, swinging straight into the smaller head with a sickening crunch. Energon spattered out around them in a semicircle of violence. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Digging his pedes into the earth the ground gave way under his weight, digging deep grooves into the dirt. Forcing his weight backwards, his body swung into the second bot. If he could put the experiences of feeling the weight of their body snapping against his own as he tugged plating out of place. Crushing joints and tearing wires. Motormaster wouldn’t be pressed for choice. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

He might’ve described it as pleasurable if he thought he understood the feeling.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Unexpected mass landed on his back. Their complete dead weight tipped him side wades, pulling on the momentum from his own swing to tug him off his footing. Tearing through the dirt they tumbled down the hill. The passing shapes and blurs that could be their allies and enemies alike. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

In the slowing descent Motormaster used the already heavy momentum to toss their frames and roll himself to a stop atop them. Clutching their face their helm gave way under the force of his strength. THE crunch of bent and dented plating was muffled by wet earth. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

More energon slicked the ground, pooling and slipping into the cracks and grooves. Traveling away. More metal popped under the pressure, fist wrapped around their head. Until finally, finally, he could pry his own finger from the gouges left in their wake. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Energon caked his digits, dripping down the length of his arms. Already a crust has formed around his pedes. The sneer dropped from his face, as if weight had pulled it down itself. Numbly, he stepped away from the bot, glancing over the river. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

The screech of his name across his personal comm matched the sheer force of emotion pulsing against his spark, as if his gestalt mates were trying to burst from his chest plates. The metal fell from his now lax grip. It rattled down the cliff until it landed in the river below in a messy splash, now forgotten. Spark pulsing with the force of emotions not quite his, the truck twisted himself around.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

His vents caught before the missile hit. Top plating warped with the sheer heat produced. Energon burst from a sliced line in a sickening splatter. Swaths of red alerts covered his HUD as his frame cried out its alarm. Vision swapped between smears of colour and pitch darkness. Barely enough to show him what was happening. But his frame registered the air whipping around him.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

He was falling, he realised with a start. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Water burst around him, gurgling its way into his open vents like slithering organics, prying him apart at the seams and tearing him open. Pure shock burst through his systems, burying his own thoughts under water in his processor. The river was far deeper than he expected. The pulsing in his spark beat through his frame like the pulsing of energon. Echoes of his gestalt swallowed their bond whole. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Forcing his optics open (when had he closed them?) he could make out the light streaming down from above through the murk. Dark, looming shapes clouded everything further in patches. Crashing through the surface and dropping like bombs, debris hailed upon his cooling frame. His processor couldn’t keep up, the world around him moving faster than him. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Optics offline, it was all too easy to drop into stasis. Even as he fought the creeping darkness the distant blips of agony across the bond pulsed. Until it was like dropping into a void.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

___

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

The first thing that came back was his self repair systems. Obviously working in his stasis his HUD had become a wall of red, alerts swallowing the screen in their concern. Cautiously pushing himself up his left arm crumpled under his weight. With only the right as his support his frame heaved sideways. Sitting up his sensors finally seemed to keep up.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

He didn’t know where he was.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

His GPS was offline, no access to the, somewhat useless, maps of the planet. Useless flickering static confirmed comms were down, no signal to be picked up from any bot, good or bad. Self repair and diagnostic were working methodically, the loss of energon depriving them of energy. His frame was in bad shape but could hold itself together for as long as it took the rest of the Cons to pick him up.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

If they were coming.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Grumbling, Motormaster forced himself back up. Gouged into the earth, a vague imprint of his frame was left like a wound upon the earth’s flesh. Cascading water pooled into a lake. Presumably where he had fallen from. Which meant he had somehow been carried downriver. Away from the Cons. Realisation creeped it’s way upon his processor. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

His plating crawled. He was too exposed. Any stupid Autobot could bumble alone and stumble upon him. Sure, he would take any of them on any day. But he had better things to do. Reasoning that to himself his next thought was to plan. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Logically speaking it would make sense to find a temporary base. Not to hide but to wait. Plan. He didn’t hide from things. But he could definitely plan. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Apparently he hadn’t noticed the gouge down his leg plating. Each step shook sparking pains up his sensors, a deep ache turning numb starting. He didn’t keep any first aid on him, no matter how much Breakdown had chattered nonsensically to him. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Part of him may have wished he had listened. He pushed that away. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

By now the star had begun falling from the sky, wrapping the landscape in darkness. He must have been offline for longer than he expected, probably because his chronometer was also offline. Which meant he didn’t know how long he would take doing anything. Great. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Eventually his optics glanced upon some decrepit building. Plant life had wrapped itself over the side, engulfing the supports under the weight. Flakes peeled off the walls, edges left naked to the elements. Whatever acted as a door was more of a useless shield; the top corner had snapped off and completely disconnected from its hinges.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Resentfully accepting his best offer of space he prayed the ceiling wouldn’t collapse atop him as his servos pried the wooden ‘door’ to let him in. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

The room was long. Across the middle a block, presumably a smaller room judging by the door, took up half the width. Leaving the back of the room partly hidden. And although he would never say it if he was asked? Motormaster judged that as a good spot to, not hide, but recover. Recuperate while he waited.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Finally settling down, his body slumped against the back wall. The weight of his frame hung heavily, pulling him further into slumping. What light remained outside flickered through the jagged cracks. Dust particles made their home on his frame. His half malfunctioning HUD pinged him an alert about cooling temperatures around him. Drips echoing in the small space told him of the energon leaving his frame and growing the somewhat sizable puddle forming beside him. 

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

Hinges squeaking a shrill cry of protest against sudden up-picking winds. The rattles of old wood lulled him to sleep like a discordant lullaby.

********

********

********

___******** _ _ _

********

********

********

**Author's Note:**

> I’m currently posting this so AO3 doesn’t delete my draft. The other chapters may not be up for a little while since I planned to write a few more before posting. But more will be coming!


End file.
